


Moving Mountains

by mew_tsubaki



Series: Birds of a Feather AU [8]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Birds of a Feather AU, M/M, Older Characters, cameos from others - Freeform, we'd be here all evening if i tagged everyone who shows up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 05:35:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11891103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mew_tsubaki/pseuds/mew_tsubaki
Summary: Just when Keishin thinks he's settled, his grandfather goes making plans. Again. *An AU oneshot set in my Birds of a Feather AU, but may be read on its own; set before and during "Opportunity" in the BoaF collection; slash.





	Moving Mountains

**Author's Note:**

> The Haikyuu! characters belong to Furudate Haruichi-sensei, not to me. Now to see what Ukatake are up to in the Birds of a Feather AU. BUT! This fic stands on its own so you don't have to read the fics in the BoaF collection to enjoy this. Still, this is an important piece to read if you're a BoaF fan and need to know what's been going on in the background! Read, review, and enjoy! *Note: Though you don't have to read the BoaF fics to enjoy this, things will be clearer if you do; this is set before and during the 6th story, "Opportunity."

"I love the chestnut color."

"I…do not."

"Aw, why not? It reminds me of taiyaki. …oops. I made myself hungry."

Keishin's brow knit together as his eyes widened, an incredulous expression he directed at the shorter man to the left of his reflection in their bathroom mirror. "Ittetsu-san. I'm not edible."

The dark curls by Ittetsu's ears as well as his glasses moved when he beamed at Keishin and laughed. "You're not?"

Keishin opened his mouth to retort and promptly decided otherwise when Ittetsu cheerily went about initiating their morning routine, squeezing toothpaste onto their toothbrushes and passing the red one to the younger man. Dammit. It could be twenty years of them together, not merely seven, and Keishin would _still_ be swept up in Ittetsu's charm, his thoughts and plans for the day traded in for that lone fact that had drawn them together in the first place: _Ittetsu was cute_.

"Keishi', oww~" Ittetsu garbled, and he pinched the back of the hand that had moved on its own to pinch Ittetsu's right cheek.

"Ah, sorry," Keishin said, cheeks red. He busied himself with brushing his teeth right as Ittetsu finished and rinsed his face.

"The whole week's going to end promptly," the shorter man reminded him as he patted his face dry. "Finals are this week, and graduation and closing ceremonies next week." His deeply bronze eyes glinted like real, molten metal. "And, the week after that, it's _someone's_ birthday…!"

Ittetsu hugged Keishin's arm to him, but Keishin's heart sank at the mention of his birthday followed by the show of his lover's affection. Honestly, he didn't want to think about turning thirty-seven in just over two weeks. He didn't want to think of another school year ending. He didn't want to think about his chestnut-colored hair, the result of giving up the bleach last month. It wasn't as if he'd made the decision yet. Or had he? Surely he'd yet to say "yes" officially, but wasn't getting ready to go to the city all the confirmation his grandfather needed?

"Keishin?"

He blinked, Ittetsu's voice and the foamy paste dribbling down his chin breaking his gloomy train of thought. "Oh. Sorry, sorry. I'm all right," he swore when Ittetsu's face morphed into that of a Concerned Adult.

Ittetsu sighed and shook his head. "I really _am_ hungry, you know."

Him not pressing for Keishin's worries relieved the younger man, who mustered a smile, as well, after rinsing his mouth out. "Then get dressed, and I'll make breakfast."

"Sounds like a plan!" Ittetsu punctuated his sentence with a kiss on the lips, and he hummed on his way back to the bedroom.

Keishin had to pause and hold his head in his hands. So much cute…!

He shook himself free of his nonsense and went to the kitchen, the wood floor of his family's traditional home feeling cold even through his slippers, cold for late March. Or maybe it was the emptiness that made it feel cold…

The house wasn't exactly traditional, nor was it truly empty, though it was definitely still a family home, Keishin thought to himself as he turned the stovetop on and pulled out from the fridge some of what he'd semi-prepared two hours ago, when he'd gotten up to tend to the plants in the greenhouse out back. Like a split-level home sliced along the level line, this house was all mats and wooden boards and sliding doors resting atop Sakanoshita Shop, his mother's family's long-standing convenience store. The aforementioned greenhouse grew ingredients for meals at home and for some of the fresh snacks sold in the store, and the balcony above the store sign was the only place in the house where Keishin smoked these days. He'd grown up here, not far from his grandfather's house, and he'd stayed here when his parents finally moved to the city to help his grandfather, leaving Keishin the freedom to invite Ittetsu to live with him.

Ittetsu had babbled in disbelief before accepting. And then he'd set himself up for a priceless joke: "B— I— But I thought your parents wanted to marry you off?!"

It wasn't as though Keishin's parents didn't know about Takeda Ittetsu, the then-relatively new Modern Literature teacher at Karasuno. He'd been teaching at Karasuno High for five years before Keishin's grandfather, Ukai Sr., had been told the Spartan geezer would be assigned a faculty advisor to ensure the volleyball club ran smoothly, and so Keishin's life—well, to use the cliché, his life had changed. Those first three years… Being part of the Karasuno Neighborhood Association team… Going out to drink with Ittetsu and Senior and Keishin's friends and the older siblings of some of the VBC's players… Peeking in on practice more… …his grandfather deciding he'd make a good coach in his stead.

Keishin shook his head now as the toast popped and he caught it with a sigh. Now, much like before, his grandfather seemed to be pulling all the strings.

… _but_ , if it weren't for Senior, Keishin might not have met the man whom his parents liked and all but treated as their son-in-law, much to the teacher's bewilderment.

It was enough to bring an actual smile to the coach's face.

"You're in a good mood," Ittetsu observed cheerily as he stepped into the kitchen behind him, track jacket draped over his arm.

"Because I'm thinking about nice things," Keishin quipped, passing a plate and a bowl to the other man. He followed him to the low table on the floor in the old dining room and put news on the TV in the corner. Once comfortable, they both started eating.

"Oh!" Ittetsu picked his head up from his food, and he stared at Keishin over the tops of his horn-rimmed glasses. "Though the club's done with practice for this academic year, Shimada-kun texted me the other day, saying he and Takinoue-kun wanted to have their first official meeting today after classes."

"With the volleyball club? At the start of finals?"

"Just something brief. To give the boys something to look forward to, next month, with the start of the new semester."

Keishin lowered his chopsticks from his mouth. "A pep talk."

Ittetsu shrugged. "More or less."

"But I _just_ gave the team a pep talk—last week! And Tattsun and Shimada _just_ introduced themselves as interim coaches—last week!"

"I think Shimada-kun wanted the moment for him and Takinoue-kun to look dependable." His large, round eyes softened, full of wisdom and looking out of place on a face that seemed fifteen years younger. "Without you around," he added softly.

"Yeah… Yeah, I get why…" Nevertheless, his shoulders sagged, and he pulled the black elastic wound 'round his wrist off and pushed his hair back just like any other day.

Ittetsu put his utensils down and reached for him, brushing the headband off and running his fingers through the softening locks. "Not one but _two_ Ukais. That's a tough name for them to live up to, Keishin. A tough act to follow."

He knew that. He really did. But the mere notion of being replaced made even an almost-thirty-seven-year-old pout.

Ittetsu tugged on a tuft of hair by Keishin's right ear and brushed it behind. "They'll do a good job, as will you," he stated, going back to his breakfast.

"I'm not taking a _job_."

"Fine. But you're leaving for a while to help out at Ukai Corp., and we've arranged with Nomura-san in the neighborhood to help me watch over the shop. You'll be able to handle it."

"…maybe I can put Grandpa off until after my birthday—"

" _Keishin_."

Ah. He had to meet those eyes. There was no avoiding that authoritative tone when he was doubting himself—especially when Ittetsu settled him with that parental glare.

"Do not put off your duty to him. He's your family, your grandfather. Show him the respect of going there and offering your assistance." His expression and body language softened again. "It's _not_ a job you're taking…that we know of. But take the time you need, and…" The dark-haired man shrugged again. "If I have to wait until Golden Week to celebrate your birthday, then so be it."

Keishin twisted his lips around, neither smiling nor frowning, but he nodded, accepting his lover's words. The thought of not seeing each other for a month was dreadful, but, Keishin knew as Ittetsu finished and headed to school, the two of them worked best when they planned together, and sometimes "planning together" meant going along with Ittetsu's well-considered advice.

* * *

Takinoue whistled lowly and bit his bottom lip after hearing Keishin's story on their break. "You got scolded…!" He tried, and failed, to hold in his snicker.

"Yeah, well, _you_ try sitting there and let Shimada tell you it's fine if you don't see him for a month," Keishin retorted sharply, shaking the newspaper to hold it up as he turned a page.

"That…is a cruel analogy, but I get your point," Takinoue admitted, his steam gone. He straightened up a second later. "Are you all packed?"

"Pretty much. I'll be gone for a couple of weeks at best." Keishin's eyes roved over the store, from the meat buns to the tiny card table to the ice-cream to the magazine stand. "It's weird. I think I'm going to miss this place."

Takinoue grinned. "If you miss it, can't you give your mom an hour or two free once you arrive in the city?"

"Probably." They paused their discussion as Keishin's break ended first and a customer came in to buy some meat buns and a pack of smokes. Once more alone, he continued, "That was Ma's _one_ condition for her and Dad moving to Grandpa's: She got to open another Sakanoshita Shop there, though it's more of a stand."

His friend followed him around as the coach swept the floor. "Why _did_ they move, though? I thought your dad only had to do telecommuting for the company," Takinoue remarked, picking up a granola bar and skimming the nutrition label.

"He did, for a while," Keishin answered, plucking the bar from Takinoue's hands and putting it back. "But Dad's technically the vice-president of a sporting goods company of which he doesn't want to be vice-president. He was happy to take over the shop when he married Ma and had me." Keishin ran his hands through his hair and scratched his head, more out of aggravation than because it was itchy. "Grandpa started the damn company when Nekomata-sensei retired, put it briefly in Dad's hands to return to coaching when Nekomata-sensei came out of retirement for those four years, and then went back to it after."

"Those two _were_ good friends." They paused again, this time at all the talk of a man who'd passed away the month before.

"Yeah…" Keishin returned to the counter and sank onto the stool behind the register. "I learned some of the ropes for the company from both Dad and Grandpa over the years, but I became the boys' coach at Karasuno when Grandpa did his final switch and focused on Ukai Corp. instead." He frowned, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "At least, we _thought_ that was going to be his final switch."

Brown eyes met brown. "Wait…you think Ukai-sensei wants to trade places with you one last time?" Takinoue asked.

Keishin absentmindedly twirled one string of his favorite orange hoodie around his finger. Honestly…? That _was_ the sense Keishin had. Senior had been needling him for years about coming on board officially, and Keishin figured this was something Ittetsu had surmised, too, even though the couple hadn't discussed it. But that would mean completely upsetting Keishin's comfy life as it was, which, frankly, wasn't fair.

"Well…he can't _really_ switch places with you," Takinoue continued, pulling Keishin from his grim thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Takeda-sensei. I don't think he'd want to upgrade to an older model." The blond snickered, even when Keishin reached over the counter to swat him in the arm.

"Don't you have an electronics store to run into the ground?" the coach groused.

Takinoue checked his watch. "Yeah. Oh." He started walking out of the store backwards. "Your train Saturday—eight AM, right?"

"Eight-fifteen," Keishin corrected, and he waved his friend off, since he didn't want to think about the hours-long train ride just yet…

…which, of course, meant it was the thing at the forefront of his mind for the rest of the day. Through a dozen customers and two cigarettes on his second break, Keishin tried to think about anything else. The best he could do was run through a mental checklist of what he'd take with him for the two weeks, and he retired upstairs when Nomura-san arrived to relieve him in the shop.

He dug out his ancient suitcase—rarely used—and his favorite black duffle bag—well-loved—and set them open in the living room. Yes, it meant many back-and-forth trips between there and the bedroom, where his closet was, but he could kick them out of the way, unnoticed, when Ittetsu came home. In the bedroom? They'd make a depressing reminder, and Keishin didn't want to force that on either of them, even if Ittetsu put on that brave face again.

Ittetsu was home earlier than normal, since there were no club activities. Although that gave Keishin pause. "I thought Shimada and Tattsun wanted a meeting with the club?" Keishin asked, grabbing a beer from the fridge. He held one out to Ittetsu.

The teacher turned it down. He'd shed his jacket by the door and had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He turned around and leaned against the countertop as Keishin drank and pulled out ingredients for oden. "They met. Whereas before they had a simple introduction, they talked more about their time playing for Karasuno, and Shimada-kun brought up having mentored Yamaguchi-kun."

Okay. That _did_ boost Shimada's creds. Though Keishin hadn't had the chance to coach until after Yamaguchi's class had graduated, he was familiar with the freckled crow's damning jump-float serve, a skill Shimada had taught him that had helped put Aoba Johsai in its place on more than one occasion. Well, that, and some killer blocking and an inhuman combo attack that only Yamaguchi's fellow third years could pull off and _had_ pulled off since their first year at Karasuno. But that was eight years ago.

Ittetsu poked Keishin in the side to get his attention back. "You know, _you've_ coached some decent players, too."

"I know. Some great kids and some solid players. But none with monikers like the 'Little Giant' or the 'Little Monster.'"

The dark-haired man laughed and leaned against Keishin's shoulder. "I don't think Hinata-kun ever got over how people refused to call him the Little Giant's protégé. But he had more than the Little Giant's jumping power and had more stamina, from what Ukai-sensei told me." He exhaled, sounding awed. "Seeing him zip around on the court… He really _was_ a monster, to his opponents."

"Ah, I kind of want to watch a live game now…"

Ittetsu smiled and leaned up to peck his lover's cheek. "A DVD will have to suffice."

* * *

The week flew by too quickly for Keishin's taste.

Ittetsu tried keeping calm and normal each morning and night, though Keishin caught him fidgeting a few times. Probably he wanted to be doing anything but grading exams, to be doing more than enjoying DVDs of their favorite players' high school and university matches. And, though they sat in an unobtrusive corner of the living room, Keishin's packed bags drew a quick glance from the teacher every morning.

"I'll be back by Golden Week at the _latest_ ," the coach insisted in bed the night before his trip. He hovered over Ittetsu, eyes meeting without the latter's glasses in the way.

Ittetsu said nothing and smiled. His skin would've seemed paler with the current sheen of sweat that clung to it had it not been flushed with rosy color, the pink splotchy on his cheeks and resembling small burns, as if Keishin's kisses packed such heat. He reached up, patting Keishin's cheek, his fingers caressing too gingerly, his eyes too wet as Keishin leaned down to kiss him again, eyes that were set to be miserable again, the thought clear in them once more of "I'm a forty-year-old man who's too needy for his own good."

So Keishin set him straight. He finished the night atop him, sinking into Ittetsu's arms, resting his once-dyed head against Ittetsu's collarbone, his ear pressed against the older man's chest, listening to that beloved heartbeat. He pulled Ittetsu's arms more tightly around him as they drifted off, digging his fingertips into those scrawny biceps, an assurance that, no, Keishin was the one who had the hard time letting go.

When the alarm on the clock went off, Keishin punched it into silence. Not hard enough to break it—although Keishin wouldn't've cared.

Breakfast was something easy for Ittetsu to reheat while Keishin showered and got ready, though Keishin saved some of his to eat with Ittetsu after the teacher showered.

Keishin didn't make his lover help him with his bags as they got into the shop's van and pulled out onto the road, heading for the station in Sendai. Keishin, too, drove, the wheel in his hands holding all of his attention, forcing his mind to empty of everything else.

The drive to Sendai was quiet. In hindsight, Keishin mused as they parked in a twenty-minute spot in the station's hub, the drive was reminiscent of taking the volleyball club to their games and training camps, when they'd leave so early that the teens would fall back asleep aboard the bus, forcing Ittetsu and Keishin to save their chats, even dulcet tones, for later.

Traffic on the platform was decent for a Saturday morning, though the noise level still made it a tad difficult to hear each other. Ittetsu pointed to his cellphone and spoke up. "You go buy your ticket," he nearly shouted. "I'm going to call the school to make sure the two re-takers on my schedule today showed up."

The coach nodded and did just that. He walked back to where he'd left Ittetsu by a beam, double- and triple-checking that his ticket info was right. He pocketed the item just as he approached his lover. "I'm glad one of the other teachers was willing to cover for you to—" He stopped short when _two_ bespectacled sets of eyes greeted him, as did a third without glasses. "Shimacchi? Tattsun?"

Shimada smirked, likely the mastermind behind this plan. "What? You thought we'd let only Sensei see you off?" he asked from one side of Ittetsu.

Takinoue stuffed his hands in his sweatshirt pockets on the other side of the teacher. "Man, you didn't even have drinks with us last night or earlier in the week."

Keishin stopped gaping at them when Ittetsu opened and shut his mouth, releasing only an incoherent squeak as his face reddened. Clearly the other two hadn't guessed that Ittetsu was to blame with his week-long selfishness. The idea made Keishin grin and snicker, which only made Ittetsu burn a brighter red.

"Yuusuke and I chipped in to get you some stuff for the trip, and some sweets are for your family," Shimada added, passing Keishin a doubled plastic bag as the four approached the edge of the platform. In the background din, the bell whistled with a five-minutes-away announcement.

"Thanks. They'll appreciate it. …hang on." The coach quirked an eyebrow, looking from Takinoue to Shimada and back. "I get that _your_ family's store isn't open yet…but what about you?" he finished, directing the question at Shimada.

Shimada laughed. "What do you think? I told Shido yesterday I had an emergency for this morning, so I got him to cover. Poor guy will do anything so long as he believes I hold it against him, him attending Seijou."

Keishin and Takinoue both rolled their eyes. "Mako… The poor kid barely played… So what if he went to a rival school?" Takinoue asked him, shaking his head.

"Karasuno pride," Shimada declared, as if that answered everything. And he only relented after holding his hand out and Takinoue and Keishin covered it, as if they were twenty years younger and stepping onto the court. The demonstration of friendship drew a delighted chuckle from Ittetsu, as well.

The four chatted some, mostly about what Keishin would expect upon reaching his destination, and the station bell whistled again, signaling two minutes until arrival. They could hear the tracks clunking by now.

Keishin turned to the three of them, smiling and _really_ pleased his two closest friends had come, though by now he'd guessed Ittetsu had not called the teacher covering for him and instead had checked to see where Shimada and Takinoue…were… He narrowed his eyes at the other three men.

"Is something wrong, Keishin?" Ittetsu wondered aloud.

The coach sighed. It wasn't that he believed he was going to be away for too long. But! He didn't want them to be so prim and proper in seeing him off; it wasn't the image of them he wanted to take with him. So he yanked Ittetsu from between his friends, placed the idiot couple side by side and linked their hands, and kissed the breath from Ittetsu's lungs as the train slowed to a halt behind him. Seeing all three of them flustered but in a more natural state made Keishin happy, and it eased some of the apprehension for what was to come out of his shoulders. " _Now_ we're good," he told them.

Ittetsu did his precious fish-out-of-water imitation but managed to nod. Shimada glared at him, red-faced, but Takinoue winked as he tugged Shimada's hand up and kissed the back, a silent "thanks" to their friend.

Keishin glanced behind him as the doors opened. "Guess I'll see you guys later," he said, though the words felt uncomfortably dry on his tongue.

"We'll take care of your team," Takinoue promised.

"We'll look after Sensei," Shimada added.

Ittetsu's mouth was a watery line, but he didn't cry. He jumped on Keishin at the last possible second, throwing his arms around the taller's neck and squeezing tight, pushing his glasses into an awkward angle and definitely smudging the lenses. "I love you, Keishin," he whispered. "Come home soon."

Ah, really… Were they equally needy? "Love you, too, Ittetsu-san," he said softly, just enough for the shorter man to hear, and he patted the mass of dark brown curls pillowing his cheek. Then he loosened Ittetsu's grip and backed onto the train, waving to all three through the windows as the final-boarding whistle blew and the train returned to life, trudging then moseying then running then zipping away.

* * *

" _Keishin_! Get _up_ , you lazy bum!"

…ah, yes. Such kind words to hear from the mouth of one's own mother.

"Keishin!"

"All right, already! I'm up!" Keishin huffed right as his mother started tugging off his blanket Sunday morning, and she stood triumphantly off to the side once she had the blanket balled up in her arms. "I'm not going to steal it and crawl back into bed, Ma."

"You aren't now that I've got the blanket, that's for sure," his mother said. She eyed him up and down, smiling when her eyes landed on his hair. "I love the chestnut color," she said with a happy sigh.

Keishin rolled his eyes. He didn't bother pointing out that Ittetsu thought the same thing—he'd told her as much several times since arriving yesterday afternoon, because she kept cooing about how mature he finally looked, as if her adult son had finally grown up. As if that stopped her from seeing him as a child. Ha.

"Your grandfather came home late last night because he was out with associates, so you missed him by going to bed early," she prattled on, turning on her heel so her son would follow her downstairs to the washer by the pantry.

"Sorry for being exhausted after being on the train for about five hours—and you don't have to wash the blanket right away, Ma, not when I'm going to be here this week and the next," he griped as she ignored him and crammed it into the washer anyway.

"Keishin, you drool in your sleep. I'm shocked Tetsu-chan can put up with that alone."

He opened his mouth to retort but came up empty-handed. Damn. Was it that bad? He'd have to corner Ittetsu when he next saw him and see if his mother was right.

The plump woman straightened up from starting the laundry and raised an eyebrow at him. "What are you still standing there for? Your father and grandfather are up and eating breakfast already. Hurry it up, if you want there to be any left for you."

He blinked and hustled around the corner, because he didn't have to be told twice. Like the piercing eyes and the square jaw, Keishin had inherited the Ukai appetite, and his stomach growled when he found his father and Senior holding the last slice of grilled fish between their chopsticks. Both older men spared Keishin the scantest glance before returning to their duel.

"Dammit, Takeichi…! Let this old man have the last piece!" Senior snarled, though the hold he had of the fish didn't seem like an old man's grip.

"No!" Keishin's father whined. "You came home late, reeking of booze, and you fell asleep on the couch! I came home at a respectable hour and even helped my wife with dinner! This piece is mine!" With a final huff, he yanked, but he took away maybe one-sixth of the slice. Shocked, he did nothing as his own father stuffed the rest into his mouth and swallowed, not even stopping to chew, Keishin noted.

"Good morning to you, too," the young coach stated mostly to himself, and he took a seat at one end of the table, between the other two on either side, and grabbed his rice bowl and began slurping eggs over it before those, too, disappeared.

"Good morning…," his father said with a sigh as he finished what he already had. His tone, somewhat defeatist, had forever struck Keishin as odd, because it so starkly contrasted Senior's seemingly iron will. And, yet, his father looked like a younger version of his grandfather, if his grandfather's hair were better kept and black shot through with gray instead of totally white. So they looked a great deal alike, but Ukai Takeichi only ever let the Ukai temper flare when it came to matters of food or his father.

"'Morning," Senior mumbled, also focusing on breakfast. Terseness was to be expected from him, hungover or not. Though he didn't look hungover whatsoever.

"I thought you didn't work nights, Grandpa," Keishin began.

Interestingly enough, his father and grandfather locked eyes. Then his father finished eating and got up to take care of his dishes. "I tend not to," the old man said at last.

Keishin quirked an eyebrow. "Was there something to celebrate last night?"

Another odd beat. Then: "No."

He stared at Senior. "Uh…did something happen…?"

Senior made a face, as if threatened with a particularly poor rotation at set-point. But he didn't answer his grandson, instead finishing breakfast and standing, though Keishin observed that now it actually took him a moment and some creaking joints to straighten up. "Did you pack a suit?"

"I've got two, so I packed both, but—"

His grandfather ignored him. "Mamiko!" he called, and Keishin's mother's dark bob appeared around the corner. "You should have his things pressed, and have Kimura take you to my tailor, get Keishin a new pair of shoes. I'll be in my office, preparing his review materials."

"Review…? Wait, wha—?!" Keishin looked from one to the other, his mother gesturing for him to eat, his grandfather disappearing into the room tucked inside the front door. The latter shut his office door so as not to be disturbed, and even Keishin's father remained at the kitchen sink, washing what were by now spotless dishes.

"Just let your grandfather catch you up at his own pace," his mother insisted. Her black, squinty eyes matched her frown in sadness. When her frown straightened to a stiff line when Keishin dawdled, her expression said it all: "He'll catch you up on everything we're _not_ celebrating around here."

He couldn't think it had anything to do with him heading the company in the future—at least, not directly. So he ate, dressed, and joined his mother at his grandfather's car, not even pausing to worry about not having the chance to shower before going out.

Kimura, the driver, was a guy maybe younger than Keishin, though the coach couldn't quite be certain because the guy's buzz cut and roughly chiseled features age him. But his face brightened with a smile when he greeted mother and son and held the back door open for them. And, though the ride was quiet, Keishin pegged Kimura as the type who'd be chatty if coerced.

The tailor was an entirely different being—not a hint of a smile nor a hair out of place. He only nodded when Keishin's mother said, "This is Ikkei-san's grandson. Here you go." She finished by forking over Keishin's two suits, one of which caused the tailor to sneer. The other made him shrug, as if to say "passable."

For the next three hours, Keishin mostly stood, surrounded by mirrors, while pieces of a nearly finished suit were laid and pinned on him, his measurements taken to adjust the pattern here and there. His mother kept herself busy reading a book, so Keishin had no one to whom he could talk. He entertained two thoughts about how quickly this process was going, then: a) his family had estimated his size and sent his numbers to the tailor to get a head start, or b) the tailor had pieces of a similar-sized project lying around and was only now using them, on Keishin.

After the fitting, the tailor passed the fabric and notes to one of his assistants and snapped his fingers, bringing another assistant out of the woodworks. This one sat Keishin down, measured his feet, and started cutting into material right away for new shoes. He, too, disappeared after his task was over.

Keishin moved into the empty chair beside his mother. "All right. Can you tell me at least _one_ thing? Otherwise all this pre-corporate cloak-and-dagger is gonna send me on the next train back to Miyagi."

"Don't be so dramatic, Keishin," she scolded.

He made a face but said nothing. They were there only a little longer, as his one "good" suit was brought to him, dry-cleaned. His mother picked out a few ties and three shirts, which they added to Senior's tab. Their final task was to schedule pick-up later in the evening, which Keishin's mother said Kimura would handle.

Things felt…surreal for someone who could be called a country bumpkin. At least his mother picked up on that, and they grabbed comfort food—i.e., takeout—when heading back. "I promise only your grandfather's initial whims are a handful. This life," she continued softly, touching the sleek door handle inside the expensive car, "is something you'll get used to."

But he didn't _want_ to get used to it. Keishin had put up with Senior's numerous eccentricities ever since he was a kid, but this really took the cake. Keishin felt even _more_ strongly that way when they returned to the house and his grandfather handed him a stack of papers an inch thick with a sticky note on top that read "MEMORIZE THIS BY TOMORROW MORNING."

Sighing, Keishin stomped upstairs to the guestroom and slammed the door shut behind him, much as Senior did upon returning to his home office. Still… Keishin didn't throw a tantrum and toss Senior's demand aside. No, he leaned against the door and slid down until he sat with the stack on his lap, flipping through the pages with one hand as the other took his phone from his pocket and dialed a much-needed person.

Said person answered on the second ring. "Keishin, hi," Ittetsu chirped, Keishin's name from his lips a happy sigh.

"Hey."

"Did your grandfather give you a hard time right away? You said nothing aside from that text you sent last night, saying you'd arrived safely."

"No. I—" He paused. Well, Senior _had_ given him a hard time, just not last night. So Keishin backed up and recounted the past twenty-four or so hours for his lover.

Ittetsu grew quiet, too. "… I see. And you don't think he just wants you to familiarize yourself with the company's current state of affairs?"

"No, that's definitely it," Keishin answered as names and terms and numbers flew by as he scanned the pages. "But there's _something_ —something that's going on and no one wants to talk about."

"Think he'll tell you tomorrow?"

"Yes. Maybe. Or later in the week." He groaned and pushed the papers off his jeans for a second, some of the more familiar names fighting to be matched to faces in his brain. "…I have a bad feeling about this, Ittetsu-san."

The teacher sighed. "It's no use working yourself up over this, Keishin."

He half grinned, expecting these familiar words. "I know."

"But it's okay to stay on your toes and tread lightly. Usually parents withhold things from their children for good reason." There was a slight intake of air, and the coach figured Ittetsu chewed on his bottom lip, and he knew why. Ittetsu's parents had never commented negatively or positively about his relationship with Keishin, and his mother had passed away four years earlier without saying a thing. But his father's tightlipped-ness had made their objectionable stance loud and clear.

The smile slid off Keishin's face, and he searched for what next to say. "I'll keep you in the loop," he settled on weakly.

Ittetsu paused again, but the lilt was back in his voice when he spoke up. "You do that, and so will I."

"Oh?"

"Let's just say I'm working on organizing a Golden Week training camp for the club."

Though Keishin wanted to know which schools Ittetsu was contacting, the timing sent his thoughts elsewhere. "But, if I come home then and you're away…"

"I could be convinced to tell you where we're staying, when the time comes. Just— _no_ interfering with the new coaches."

"Of course not. I'd rather interfere with the faculty advisor."

Ittetsu laughed, a sound that brought the smile back to Keishin's face, and it was the energy boost Keishin needed to make it through the rest of the day.

* * *

"What place do we occupy in the industry?"

"Second, behind Emperor Industries."

"How many stores of our own do we have?"

"Forty-seven throughout mainland Japan. The ones in Seoul and in Los Angeles are two years old. The talks for one in Sydney are being finalized."

"Gross profit? Annual profit?"

"Oh, um, annual… Thirty…million?"

The Q&A stopped there. Senior, arms crossed in front of his chest, turned in his spot in the backseat, staring at his grandson incredulously. "You're asking me?"

Keishin squirmed under that gaze that made him feel like a grade-schooler. "No…"

His grandfather huffed, facing forward. "I asked you to memorize everything in the packet I gave you."

Keishin didn't correct him that it had been an order, not a question.

"When you walk into any room at headquarters, you are not going to be the smartest person in the room. That's expected. That's what the managers are for, to give you the info you need when you need it. But your love for and loyalty to the company need to beat that of everyone else. Those are the signs of a leader the employees can trust." Senior finished gruffly, but his demeanor matched the sincerity of his words, with his shoulders slacking and his grimace a little less tight. He cut an admirable silhouette.

On the other hand, Keishin didn't think he, himself, could compare. Sharing Senior's face would only take him so far. And Keishin kept thinking that when Kimura dropped them around front that Monday morning and they walked into Ukai Corporation, entering through the main lobby. It wasn't blinding white, but shiny, soft gray faux marble covered the floor, and the walls were a bright, acid-washed concrete where there weren't any giant windows. A tasteful rug and multi-colored furniture in the small waiting area provided a splash of color, as did the pastel orange counter of the check-in desk.

Everything, even the secretary with the Kansai accent who buzzed the president in, was the same as Keishin remembered from years ago. Even the ugly paintings that portrayed one sport or another decorated the hallways.

They took the building's main elevator to the seventh floor, the whole of which belonged to Senior. It had its own lobby, a real marble floor, and nicer furniture than elsewhere in the building. At one end of the level was a large conference room; opposite that was the desk of Senior's personal secretary. Senior led Keishin over there first.

The young woman stood up from her chair and bowed respectfully. "Miyaji Tae," she introduced herself. When she straightened up, her violet–black hair fell over her shoulder, and she brushed it aside as she added, "Please let me know if there's anything I can do or explain for you.

Keishin also introduced himself, not bumbling as he anticipated. Still, he didn't exactly fit in with the tasteful scene before him, wearing the newly tailored navy blue suit and a tie with a geometric pattern and the blue color of toilet bowl cleaner. He felt like a yakuza come to intimidate the wealthy CEO.

That feeling worsened when another beautiful woman appeared, emerging from one of the two offices sandwiched between the ends of the floor. Though Keishin had known of her from Karasuno in her last two years as the volleyball club's manager, it was interesting to see how much more eye-catching Shimizu Kiyoko looked now, despite her overall image being very much the same as it had been a decade ago. "President, Ukai-san," she said with a polite bow.

"You remember me?" Keishin asked, impressed.

That mole by her mouth moved when she gently smiled. "Even if you two did not look alike, President talks about you of—"

" _Ahem_. Shimizu. Did you bring that file I requested?" Senior interrupted.

She passed him the folder tucked under her arm. "The rest is in the conference room."

He nodded and headed there, the other two following wordlessly. "Keishin, the information I had you study is already old news."

The coach furrowed his brow at that wide back. "Then why—?"

"It was important you familiarize yourself with what we _used_ to be, for comparison." Senior frowned as they took seats at one end of the wide, elongated table that almost split the conference room in half. He opened his mouth to continue, sighed, and gestured for Shimizu to carry on.

"Just over a month ago," she said, passing Keishin a report that looked too long to read in one sitting, "an employee in the marketing department accidentally opened an email that was not from someone else in the company. The email disguised a weak point to be introduced into our internal system, and we were breached."

Shit. Keishin's gut feeling had been on the mark. "You were hacked?" he queried, looking from one to the other.

"At the time, it was only a breach, and the person responsible took remote control of the employee's computer to delete some of his work," the woman continued, pushing the pink frames of her glasses up her nose. "Our I.T. department stopped his deletions, but they had access to our network, and it took our best technicians the better part of that night to boot the intruder. Our techs have been monitoring our systems and have detected no hack since the breach, though."

"Yeah, but once in, the culprit's never really out," Keishin stated. The hard line of Shimizu's lips told him she knew that.

On the other hand, his grandfather looked dead tired, and he appeared to age right before their eyes. He motioned to the half-dozen small stacks of manila folders laid out on the table. That's why we've got these summaries and detailed analyses from each facet of the company. We're attempting to stay up to date every day if not every few hours, so we can catch any anomalies on paper which our systems might miss."

"But, if these reports are computer-generated—"

Shimizu shook her head. "We're relying on surveys in person and over the phone, and we've got secretaries and interns typing everything up on typewriters."

Of course. Disconnect. Though Keishin could appreciate what modern typewriters they had on hand, as he peeked at the summary in the Production folder to his left. It looked much the same as if a word processor had been used.

"We're reading these every single day," Senior said, opening up a folder by him, too.

"So that makes you"—Keishin paused, having almost said "us" instead—"the last line of defense?"

Senior grimaced, but its effect was dulled by the lackluster sheen to his eyes. His posture and expression were reminiscent of those days when Keishin had been Karasuno's back-up setter, with the coach preparing some speech about those who helped themselves…except, this time, when the men shared a look, it was like being put in the match at last. "Yes," Senior said, "and I'd like your help."

* * *

His grandfather was not the kind of man to ask for help. That was why his words were like a punch in the gut to Keishin, and he took his stay more seriously afterwards.

That day, he sat in the conference room the entire time, reading anything printed placed in front of him. Senior was there intermittently, breaking to take this call or go to that meeting. Shimizu stayed on hand, explaining certain processes and policies and terms, and Miyaji brought him lunch and liquids since Keishin had metaphorically glued himself to his seat.

Going by Senior's words, each day was lather, rinse, repeat, so Keishin went to headquarters each day with little complaint. The story in each department didn't seem to change, but they went over each iota of data with a fine-tooth comb, not expecting but always prepared for the worst. And, though company policy was that executives had an extra day off of their choosing in addition to Sunday, Keishin noted that Senior came in even on Saturday, and Shimizu hadn't gone anywhere, either. He hoped it was only a crunch-time thing.

Sunday was a welcome break for tired eyes, ad Keishin was nearly ecstatic to help his mother around the house and open Sakanoshita Stand for the day. After she sent him home so she could tend her stand alone, Keishin rang Ittetsu and caught him up properly, which he hadn't been able to do with texts alone the past several days.

Ittetsu made a lot of throaty noises and "hmms" throughout. When Keishin called him out on it, the teacher sighed. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize" was Keishin's automatic reply. He'd seen Ittetsu for years apologize on command in various situations—from placating senior faculty over club running late to calming officials when one or two players got to be a handful—but Keishin preferred that Ittetsu didn't treat him the same way. It wasn't just that Keishin was special to him and so ought to be treated specially—there was also something dismissive about apologies, the young coach believed, no matter how sincere they were.

Ittetsu's side went quiet as he formed his thoughts. "All right," he said at last. "It's just—this seems like privileged information. Are you sure you should be sharing it with me?"

Keishin rolled his eyes as he sat at the desk in the guestroom. The words "Well, you're kind of my wife" sat on his tongue, but he held on to them since he really wanted to continue talking and wouldn't be able to do that if Ittetsu flew into a tizzy over roles and marriage and all that. So he instead went with "You're family. I know it won't go anywhere."

Oops. Maybe that had been even stronger than calling Ittetsu his wife, going by the dead silence on the other end. Keishin coughed. "Um. Ittetsu-san?"

To his credit, Ittetsu carried on without interruption, though his squeaky voice gave him away and painted an adorable mental image for Keishin. "Of course it won't go past me," he asserted, "but this sounds like the type of thing that's—that's classified."

"All right. No more spy movies with Shimada for you. Nothing's classified, but, yes, we're making sure not to let anything slip to the media. The scare alone that Ukai Corp. doesn't have its shit together would be disastrous. Still, in this modern age, it'd be foolish for big companies to think they won't be targets or can emerge unscathed from something seemingly innocuous."

"… Do you think the breach is 'seemingly innocuous'?"

Keishin ran a hand through his hair and chewed on his bottom lip. He'd done that often this past week, having eschewed the cigarettes while he was here, though he could really curse his father for having passed on a penchant for smoking. At least he'd quit last year, so Keishin didn't have to smell the temptation. "…too early to tell," he mumbled at last.

"Mm." Ittetsu grew quiet again, but it was the type of silence Keishin could hear and knew all too well.

"What else?"

There was a sad smile in the teacher's tone. "Oh, just… You're going to be there for a while."

"Nothing we didn't already expect."

"I _know_ , but… It's silly, but this'll be the first birthday apart. We've been together to celebrate all the rest."

That had occurred to the young coach already. "Yeah…yeah. I know. But we'll make do. How about video-chatting, then?"

Ittetsu regained his chirpiness. "Ah, I love it! What time will you be home from the office?"

"Er. …I have no clue."

"I see…"

"What about I take a break during practice? You can sneak back to the faculty room and—"

"Uh, I…don't think that's a good idea."

Keishin furrowed his brow. "Why not?"

"Keishin… What do we always do on our birthdays, just the two of us?"

"Have sex—oh. Guess that's off the table."

"…not if we, uh…try something new."

He nearly fell out of his chair. Was his vanilla Ittetsu _really_ suggesting webcam sex?! "Yeah, no, um. That. That's good. Doable. Uh." _Wow_ , he felt articulate.

Ittetsu laughed, but it was a shaky, nervous sound. "Then we have loose plans for a date. I won't be able to leave practice early despite the start of the new semester, as Shimada-kun and Takinoue-kun already arranged to reserve the gym for the returning players, but I'll have a quick bite at home and be waiting for you after."

Keishin tried to think of a coherent response. Instead, he channeled Ittetsu's fish-out-of-water noises. "Yeah," he choked out at last.

Suddenly, his birthday couldn't come soon enough.

* * *

"Ukai-san. Ukai-san!"

Early on Thursday evening, Miyaji came into the conference room, which Keishin was treating like a makeshift office of his own, and cleared away the remnants of his late lunch. But, even after having his name called, Keishin didn't notice her until she touched his arm.

The secretary's brow was furrowed. "Ukai-san, you've not taken a break all day. You worked through lunch. Are you all right?"

He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed them. Good gods. Had he really done that? He checked the time on his watch only to see the analog display read eight o'clock. He gaped at that and then at Miyaji. "Is it really this late?!"

Miyaji's eyes darted to his accessory. "No, Ukai-san. It's a little after five."

Great. He needed a new watch.

"May I suggest a walk around the building?"

"Yeah… Yeah, stretching my muscles sounds like a good idea." At "stretching," his mind briefly flew away as he imagined Ittetsu's gift, but he calmed down. Though he was looking forward to this experiment, a part of him felt bummed about today, having come in to work on his birthday with no expectations for celebration. At home, his mother had mentioned making his favorite dishes, but there was something about going out to celebrate one's birthday properly, even as an adult. And an idea popped into his head. "Actually…"

"Yes?"

He stood and slipped his jacket on. "Where's the nearest train station?"

Miyaji furrowed her brow again. "Two blocks away, but—"

He nodded his thanks and took his lunch trash out of her arms, disposing of it himself in the waste bin by the door. "I'm going out, then, Forty-five minutes, maybe an hour. But I'll be back—"

"Ukai-san—"

"—so just tell Grandpa I'm just in the bathroom or something if he comes looking for me—"

"Ukai-san!"

Keishin froze on his way out of the room, with Miyaji right behind. Uh-oh. Had he been too crass just now? Crap! He didn't know how the corporate social sphere worked, so he didn't know where the lines were.

But Miyaji exhaled and strode by, heading to her desk. She picked up her phones, hit some buttons, and then hung up. "Kimura-san will be waiting for you downstairs."

"Oh." He'd forgotten about Kimura. "But…what if Grandpa has to go out?"

The young woman shook her head and gestured to his closed office door on the left. "His schedule's full today. Shimizu-san wouldn't let him leave even if he wanted to."

Keishin stroked his chin, impressed. Shimizu might've been the Operations manager, but she made for a hell of a vice-president, if she were one. …actually, she'd probably make for a better president, Keishin thought with intimidation as he went downstairs and out the front. True to Miyaji's word, Kimura was there and opened the door for the coach.

What would've been a five-minute train ride was a fifteen-, almost twenty-minute car ride deep into the city. Keishin mused about striking up a conversation with the driver, but, as no topics came to mind, he gave up on that venture. So he noted how the vehicle recently had been vacuumed, that there was a pineapple air freshener that no longer smelled hanging from the mirror, and that traffic at this time of day was horrible—but it _was_ nice having legroom and not being crammed into a train car.

He was relieved, almost excited, when the school came into view, and he had Kimura drop him off at the curb in the front. "Please circle back around for me in about half an hour," Keishin requested, and he hopped out before Kimura could make a fuss about getting his door. If there was any place Keishin didn't want to be treated like a young master, it was here.

The stone steps were a welcome sight compared to Ukai Corp.'s headquarters, and Keishin climbed them steadily, scanning the campus for a moment before spotting the gyms and making a beeline for them.

In this mild weather, the gym doors were open, and Keishin's ears pricked up at the comforting sound of volleyballs smacked high in the air, of sneakers squeaking as receives were made. He slipped inside with little notice, but he made his presence known to the three adults across the way.

The oldest and tallest broke into a grin and waved back. He gave his clipboard to the shorter man beside him, who, in addition to the woman with them, spied Keishin and waved as well. But then her and the shorter man's eyes widened the longer they stared.

Keishin frowned and looked down at his suit and tie. "Ah, I look stupid, don't I?"

"It's not your clothes Yaku and Yamamoto are shocked by," Naoi corrected once he was in earshot of his rival. "It's your hair."

Keishin rolled his eyes but still shook Naoi's hand and clapped him on the back. "Yeah, yeah… You cats are so weird. You're used to bleach-blond characters."

"Considering Yamamoto's older brother and Kozume still have golden locks, you're not wrong," Naoi said, referencing some alumni which Senior's players had faced before Keishin took over coaching duties.

Keishin joined Nekoma's head coach right inside the door and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He smirked as Naoi's attention was caught by a set that was spiked poorly. "And what about you? I can't picture you bleaching, but, uh, maybe a little color around…"

Naoi turned redder than his Nekoma sweats, and his hand shot up to cover the spot of gunmetal gray by his left ear. He glared at Keishin, who snickered. "Oh, shut up, Ukai. So I'm graying. You just wait your turn."

But the crow coach shrugged. "I can wait. Grandpa and Dad didn't start graying until their fifties."

At that, Naoi's shoulders sagged. "Yaku and Yamamoto keep trying to put a positive spin on it, saying I look distinguished…"

He looked too forlorn for Keishin to make another jibe. "Was it recent? I saw you with your team on television for the Spring High months ago and didn't notice it then." There. A subtle reminder that Nekoma had made it to Nationals while Karasuno had not ought to do the trick.

But Naoi frowned and peeked at Keishin before averting his gaze. "It _was_ recent. It happened after Nekomata-sensei's eldest daughter called me at the end of January to say he looked to be more tired than usual. I thought I might swing by and join him for drinks, because you know how he was: the life of the party, outlasting everyone who drank with him." He dropped his hand from the gray patch and ran his hand through his hair. Then his hands were clenched fists at his sides. "But I didn't get the chance. Sensei passed at the start of February."

"My condolences," Keishin mumbled. "Sorry I couldn't make it."

Naoi spared him a small, tight grin. "He had a nice turnout. Ukai-sensei was there, so consider your family and Karasuno represented. Yamiji-sensei from Fukurodani was there, too."

That made sense, since the two Tokyo schools were closely linked. "It'll be weird to see Yamiji-sensei to go someday, too."

Naoi nodded. "All the greats of their generation. Him, Washijou-sensei—"

Keishin snorted and exchanged a look with his friend. "Naoi… With personalities like theirs, Washijou-sensei and Grandpa are gonna be last, and they'll go kicking and screaming—especially Washijou-sensei."

They laughed, but Yaku sent them scathing glares when some of the students stopped to see what the deal was. Chastised, Naoi motioned for Keishin to join him outside, and they resumed chatting. "But you didn't come here to talk morbid things, did you, Ukai?"

"No. I was hoping to convince you to cut out early and have a drink with me."

"Just because you're in the city?" Naoi's eyes gleamed. "What would Takeda-sensei think?" he teased.

Keishin blushed and gave him a dry look, his face reddening, knowing how childish he was about to sound. "…no. It's my birthday."

The dark-haired man blinked. Then he laughed, not at all bothered by the insinuation he'd made. "Happy birthday, you old fart."

"Hey! If I'm an old fart, then so are you!"

Naoi laughed again. "Ah, Ukai… I'd join you, but I've still got practice…"

"And the club has Yaku and Yamamoto."

"Yamamoto's only an assistant coach, and the club's size has gradually increased over the past few years."

" _The club has Yaku and Yamamoto._ "

Naoi grumbled about not being heard, but Keishin ignored that, too, and went inside to ask Yaku if he could borrow the head coach. Polite though his language was, Yaku all but spat " _Please_ , take him and _go_ " after club was interrupted for the third time.

Keishin considered hailing Kimura for a second but remembered he was trying to downplay his new role. He took an abrupt detour up the street after.

A minute passed, and Naoi coughed. "Did you have a destination in mind?"

"Um…"

"You have no idea where you're going, do you?"

The crow shot him another dry look. But he was saved from having to respond when a food stall appeared up ahead on their right, and Keishin grabbed them two seats in the middle. "Two beers, and steamed buns and dumplings, please!"

Naoi shook his head and amended his drink order to nonalcoholic beer. "So, care to tell me what you're doing here, looking like that? I know your grandfather owns Ukai Corp., but…"

"I'm…helping."

"Only helping? Didn't think you'd give up the bleach only to help." He paused when they were passed their beverages, and he toasted to Keishin's good health. But then he asked essentially what Takinoue had last month: "Are you going from coaching to corporate?"

And, as he had with Takinoue, Keishin was reluctant to come out with a definite answer. "…I'm not a numbers person," he mumbled into the mouth of his bottle.

"No, you're not."

Keishin heaved an exasperated sigh.

"But stats? You can handle those." Naoi waited for Keishin's full attention in order to continue, and he gave his companion a small smile. "It's true. Running numbers versus analyzing information—that was part of our advantage as setters, being stats guys."

"Benchwarmers' Club," Keishin reminded him.

"I know. But we took that background with us when we became coaches. And running a company isn't just about numbers—I'm sure Ukai-sensei's got people for it. But taking in information and processing it before making a move?" The dark-haired man shrugged. "Coaching or corporate, I guess it's not that different. You'll just have to figure out what to do."

The food arrived, and Keishin picked at a bun while Naoi heartily ate the lion's share of the dumplings. "I never said I'm switching careers."

"No. But it's hard to say 'no' to or to disobey a man like your grandfather."

Keishin huffed, hating that he was right.

Naoi pushed the last two dumplings in front of him and convinced him to eat. With the dumplings and all but one bun gone and Keishin's beer hardly touched, they trudged back to Nekoma. With the sounds of equipment going away for the night, it was easy to figure practice had wrapped up in Naoi's absence, but he didn't grouse about it. Instead, he asked Keishin another question. "You didn't leave Takeda-sensei to coach all of a sudden, did you?"

The sympathetic expression for the teacher pulled Keishin out of his funk. "No, I didn't."

"Oh, good."

"You get to deal with the likes of Coach Shimada and Coach Takinoue instead."

"Oh, crap."

Keishin grinned, and they parted there. Keishin caught Yaku's eye before he turned to leave, and he gave him a quick nod of thanks.

Kimura pulled up as Keishin's foot left the bottom step in front of the school, and he let the coach get in by himself. "Are you feeling better, sir?" the driver asked at the first red light.

Keishin looked at him in the mirror. Had he come across as disgruntled earlier? "Uh, yeah…"

Kimura nodded. "I heard from your grandfather that today is your birthday, sir."

"Hah? Ah, yeah, it is… Hey, Kimura, you don't have to call me 'sir.' Maybe it's fine for Grandpa, but I'm not old enough to be a 'sir' yet."

"Yes, sir," Kimura replied, smiling.

Keishin rolled his eyes.

"And…Ukai-san?"

Well, that was a relief. "Yeah?"

"Happy birthday, Ukai-san."

It was the first time that day anyone had said that exact phrase, and it made Keishin feel comfortable for the first time since coming here. "Thanks, Kimura," he said, and he settled in to watch the city lights as they wound their way back to headquarters.

* * *

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Ittetsu wore an unimpressed expression on Keishin's phone's screen. The teacher took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, but he didn't look angry anymore. "Keishin. I get it. I'm sorry, too. Now are you going to apologize for the rest of the evening, or may I get a word in?"

Keishin sighed. "You can… But, to be honest, I think I'd prefer having to say sorry for doing something wrong in bed."

Ittetsu smiled, but his eyes said otherwise: "You bet your ass I'd prefer the same, damn it." The piercing gaze made Keishin shiver.

He'd really messed up, he internally bemoaned in the guestroom towards the end of the month. On his birthday, he'd come home in a decent mood, thanks to Naoi and to Kimura, and he'd had a nice, lively dinner with his parents and Senior, complete with quality sake his father had gotten from a trusted client. But all three Ukai men had overdone it, and Keishin had retired to his room…and slept through the night, missing Ittetsu's call.

Ittetsu had ignored his few calls and texts, few only because Keishin was busy at Senior's company. And Keishin had gotten out only a few apologies last week when Ittetsu finally answered. Only tonight had he been given the chance to explain, but at least Ittetsu was tired of being upset with him.

"So…,"Keishin began, happy Ittetsu had accepted a video chat tonight. It was a relief to see those round eyes and cheeks.

The teacher put his glasses back on, and he held up a paper calendar. "Golden Week! Next week, we're going to stay over at Johzenji. We'll be joined by Datekou and Seijou."

"Holy _fuck_ , how in the hell did you manage that?"

"Well, Oiwake-san loves the chance to test each new Iron Wall on Karasuno, you know that, and he wanted more than just a practice match against us. Anabara-san was looking for a proper training camp for his team since he's forever cursed with lazy students at Johzenji."

"And Seijou?"

Ittetsu shrugged as if it were nothing. "Mizoguchi-san and Iwaizumi-kun were hesitant at first, especially after hearing Johzenji's hosting. But Shimada-kun pulled a favor with Shido-kun, who convinced his old coach and teammate that it was an 'enemy of my enemy is my friend' situation."

Now it made sense. "Ittetsu-san, is this a training camp or an Anti-Shiratorizawa Brigade?"

The teacher laughed brightly. "Shimada-kun and Anabara-san _were_ mulling over inviting Shiratorizawa if Seijou opted out."

"Washijou-sensei would never agree, not with a club that size and their own facilities."

"Yes, but Mizoguchi-san and Iwaizumi-kun are a bit too hardheaded to reach that conclusion." He laughed at his own summation, and Keishin was reminded it was this deviousness plus persistence that had convinced him to date Ittetsu in the first place.

"This sounds like something I don't want to miss," the coach said, and he reclined on his bed and held his phone above his face, back to admiring the cheerfulness on his lover's countenance.

"I know. And I don't want you to, but I know it's somewhat last-notice." He furrowed his brow but smiled nevertheless. "I mean, does the company take Golden Week off or…?"

Keishin sighed, as he already knew the answer. "No. But work has been steady and nothing's come up, so I'm gonna barter with Gramps…."

Which he did the next morning on the way to the office. And, shockingly, Senior agreed to it.

" _Hah_?!" The youngest Ukai couldn't help gawking at the old man in the backseat.

Senior paid his rudeness no mind. "I'm encouraging you to drop in on the training camp."

"What?! I'm not— I'm going just for Ittetsu-san—" He shut up when Senior huffed.

"That's a bonus. Go and check on Makoto and Yuusuke, make sure they're not besmirching our good name. Makoto was a good mentor to Tadashi and others like him after, but Yuusuke still has that streak in him of doing things his own way."

"I'm not going unless I promise to evaluate them, am I?"

"I'll have Miyaji check for available train tickets. We'll collect them from her at the end of the day."

And that was how Keishin found himself on the train home on Monday afternoon.

He would've liked to leave on Sunday or even Saturday, before the start of Golden Week, but Monday was the best Miyaji had been able to do, so he'd still thanked her. He'd be responsible for his ticket back, but at least that meant he got to choose when to return to the city.

Considering when he left, he arrived in his hometown well after dark, and he was exhausted. But he made it home and took a nap before getting in his car and heading to Johzenji.

Johzenji High, like Datekougyou, was a fair drive from Karasuno, unlike Aoba Johsai and Shiratorizawa, which were a good walk and a mad run from the crows' nest, respectively. The school was about as old as Karasuno, too, but its buildings were better kept than either Karasuno's or Nekoma's.

Keishin pulled into the lot and circled around back by the main building as he searched for where to park. He found the cluster of what must've been the coaches' cars off near the running tracks by the gyms, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he recognized the bus he and Ittetsu borrowed from the school for club trips. He parked beside it, got out, and dialed Ittetsu as he rested comfortably against his trunk. On the second ring, Ittetsu picked up, and Keishin said, "I think you've got a flat tire."

"What?!" the teacher yelped, and he hung up.

Keishin chuckled and waited, sticking his phone and hands in his pockets.

A moment later, a breathless man came running from the clubhouses by the gym, using his phone as a flashlight. Ittetsu locked eyes with Keishin—and ran faster. He collided into the coach's arms with an "Oof!" and didn't have any breath left to laugh, but he clung to Keishin as if gravity kept them together.

"Damn, it's good to see you for real," Keishin whispered. He pushed back the curls on Ittetsu's forehead to kiss it, and he chuckled again when Ittetsu pouted at him. So he pushed the older man's frames up and out of the way and went for a real kiss instead.

Once Ittetsu's knees gave, the teacher considered himself satisfied and sank into another hug. "Ahh, Keishin…!"

"Did you miss me?"

"Of course." Ittetsu was blurry with light only from one flood-lamp on the tracks providing clarity for the entire area. Regardless, he was a sight for sore eyes.

"…uh, Ittetsu-san…what are you doing…?" Keishin asked as the teacher craned his neck around his lover.

"Checking the bus, of course! Where's the flat?"

Forty years old and still so gullible…! "Ittetsu-san, I said that just so you'd rush out," Keishin confessed.

Ittetsu sighed, pulling Keishin's head down to rest it in the crook of his neck. "Oh, Keishin… I still would've rushed out to see you."

"Really?" the coach mumbled. He unzipped his lover's favorite track jacket partway, enough so he could breathe against his collarbone.

"Stop that," Ittetsu scolded, and Keishin laughed when the former squirmed. "No, seriously… The students are in the B building behind the gym and the adults have accommodations in the clubhouses, but we divvied up the arrangements three, three, and three."

"So it'll be three, three, and four now," Keishin said, breaking away to grab the small bag he'd packed and to lock up his vehicle. He followed Ittetsu to the clubhouses. "Wait—three, three, and three?"

"Yes. Anabara-san's assistant coach quit, apparently. He's sharing with Oiwake-san and Sakunami-kun."

"And his hands aren't full all on his own?"

"Saitou-kun, from Shiratorizawa, will be by during the day to lend him a hand."

Of course. Those two were old friends. "So then…"

"Mizoguchi-san, Iwaizumi-kun, and Watari-kun took the second room," Ittetsu said as they passed by the second door on the floor level.

"I thought Watari was only a fitness trainer."

"He is, but he's volunteering his time to help out, too. So, here we are," the teacher finished, and he opened the door to the third and second-to-last clubroom—

" _ARGH_! _Damn_ it! Again?! How can you do that _again_?!"

Keishin and Ittetsu blinked at Anabara's outburst and…well, at the scene before them.

The "responsible" adults were seated around a game of mahjong. Anabara looked close to crying, Oiwake had nodded off while sitting up on Anabara's left, Mizoguchi and Iwaizumi looked equally irate and perplexed, and Takinoue seemed either scared or in awe of Mahjong Master Shimada.

Ittetsu sighed, catching the others' vague attention, though Shimada waved. "Good grief. Watari-kun and Sakunami-kun left to do patrol, so I was hoping this lot would put it away and go to sleep…"

Keishin pointed at the scene before them. "Are they seriously gambling during a training camp?"

"It's harmless fun," Shimada piped up. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, tucked some hair behind his ear, and collected several tiles in one fell swoop.

In response, Anabara flopped backwards with an "I give up," Iwaizumi scratched his head, and Mizoguchi cursed and got to his feet, bitching about there being no alcohol on school trips. Seijou's head coach clasped Keishin's shoulder on the way out. "Please tell me _that_ ," he said, pointing to a cackling and victorious Shimada, "is not a permanent change, Ukai."

A part of Keishin wanted to apologize for the rowdy behavior…but he also knew Mizoguchi was as big a pain in the ass as Irihata had been for Karasuno, so he smirked. "Goodnight, Mizoguchi-san."

Mizoguchi rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath. Iwaizumi followed after, but after he woke Oiwake and had his help dragging Anabara out of there. Once it was crows-only, Ittetsu closed the door, and Shimada beamed at the other three.

"I told you it was harmless," he repeated as Takinoue put the tiles away and Ittetsu laid a futon out for Keishin next to his. Shimada gestured to the hoard of vending machine snacks and drinks piled at the head of his bedding. "We only bet food."

"For two nights," Takinoue piped up. He tousled Shimada's hair, but the latter was two giddy over his win to swat him away.

Keishin shook his head at them. "And you played _with_ him, Tattsun?"

"I know better than to play against him, so we did teams." Takinoue eyed him and Ittetsu. "But what are _you_ doing here?"

In his mind's eye, Senior's words about sizing the new coaches up floated to the forefront of his thoughts, but Keishin wisely withheld that piece of information. "I thought it'd be obvious," he said casually, snaking an arm around Ittetsu's waist and pulling the teacher to him, making Ittetsu laugh. "We'll be on our best behavior if you are."

Takinoue and Shimada exchanged a look and a snort. "Shyeah, right," the blond quipped.

"You won't even know I'm here, honest…!"

"All right, all right, Keishin, we have an early morning, so let's all get some rest before any of us have to patrol, all right? …"

* * *

Keishin turned out to be right—or, rather, he made good on his promise. He stayed out from underfoot of the other coaches and kept out of Shimada's and Takinoue's hair. He kept off to the side with Ittetsu when it was appropriate to mingle, and he kept his exchanges with the students brief so they'd rely more on their new coaches. The only place he interfered was in the kitchen to lend the five managers—two from Johzenji and one each from the other schools—a helping hand, which the girls welcomed.

"It's like having your wife make you dinner," Shimada snickered after dinner Tuesday night, and he guffawed at the deer-in-the-headlights look the happy couple shared as they walked back to the clubhouse with the crow coaches.

Takinoue snickered, too, but he caught the Evil Eye which Keishin sent him, so he sobered up and took PDA-allergic Shimada's hand in his. It worked. Shimada was nearly docile for the rest of the night.

Ruckus or no, teasing or no, it was so pleasant to have a repeat on Wednesday after all the tense weeks that had passed. It was nice, too, to see Shimada in action compared to Takinoue; Shimada had talent for explaining concepts, but Takinoue, natural talent he was, was the better demonstrator. They made a balanced team.

Then, that evening, Keishin had a text from Shimizu:

_-Ukai-san, can you call me?_

Keishin's smile fell as he stood inside the A gym with Ittetsu, watching Johzenji bounce around Datekou's defense. A second passed before he realized Ittetsu had stopped watching, too.

"Keishin, is something wrong?"

The young coach snapped out of his stupor and considered his lover's worried expression. "Uh, no, just… I need to take a call. I'll be right back," Keishin assured him, and he gave Ittetsu's nearer hand a quick squeeze before stepping outside.

Shimizu answered on the first ring—hopefully a sign of her promptness and not one of urgency. "Good evening, Ukai-san. My apologies for disturbing your vacation."

He ran a nervous hand through his hair. "It's fine, Shimizu. I take it this is important?"

There was an odd pause. Then: "We've…hit a snag."

"What kind of snag?"

"Missing information."

"From where?"

There was the sound of her flipping through papers. "Production. The data came from Marketing." She let that sink in.

"Which was where the breach originated," Keishin reminded himself.

"Yes." Another pause. When Shimizu spoke again, there was uncertainty in her tone. "Ukai-san… I might have jumped the gun notifying you, as we only discovered the issue this morning, but—"

"No, no, I… I'd want to know." He grimaced. "It's still early enough. If I caught the train now—"

"If I may," the Operations manager interrupted politely. "You would return quite late, Ukai-san. If you come back, consider the morning as your earliest possible choice."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Keishin flashed his eyes at the gym doors, glimpsing Ittetsu, Mizoguchi, and Shimada all looking on quite curiously. "Then I'll be on the first train back, Shimizu."

"All right."

"Oh. One more thing."

"Yes?"

Senior would strangle him if he ever learned of Keishin's next requests, but the grandson asked anyway. "If my grandfather is still at the office, send him home, will you? And, even when I'm back, keep tabs on him for me. This company…" Somehow, the words "means everything to him" didn't capture everything Senior felt about the company he'd built from the ground up.

"Understood. We will see you tomorrow, Ukai-san. Goodnight."

"Ah, yeah… See you then."

It was clear to the others that something was amiss when Keishin slogged back. Ittetsu fidgeted, and Shimada ogled him openly. Only Mizoguchi tried clearing the air. "Datekou put an end to Johzenji's boundless energy. Ready to see our efforts as we hand your asses to you?" he taunted in a friendly manner.

Keishin narrowed his eyes at him, but the jab lit a fire in Shimada, and the two active coaches walked onto the court as their respective teams began warming up. It was the perfect segue for Ittetsu to jump in.

His eyes seemed to scream "Don't tell me it's nothing." His lips even quivered. And Keishin…

Keishin couldn't find the strength to lie.

* * *

Where there is smoke, there is fire.

Ukai Corporation's executives were in a frenzy when Keishin returned, and the next several days blurred together as the situation unfolded. The issue of missing information from Marketing and from Production kept cropping up—only for the info to be found later, so that files could be reconciled. But those seven open projects were the tip of the iceberg.

On Wednesday, Senior called for a managers' meeting, and that conference room filled up quickly. Several faces were as familiar as Shimizu's to Keishin, since Sugawara, Sawamura, and Azumane each headed up a different department within the company. Unfortunately, this was no time for a trip down Memory Lane.

"We keep finding holes in our records," Sawamura spoke to the room. "Suga's team has patched every single one so far, but…"

Kobori, the I.T. manager, cleared his throat uncomfortably. "We recovered all of Terushima's lost files following the hack. But we're working 'round the clock to pinpoint the source of this mess."

"Is this another breach?" Keishin asked on his grandfather's right at the head of the table.

The others murmured, but Kobori threw his hands up in a calming gesture. "No! No, we're…" He trailed off, unable to confirm they were safe.

Azumane frowned and spoke up. "Whatever it is, I believe it's reached Distribution. Numbers on the warehouse's system have been wonky, especially when compared to the stores' numbers I got from Shimizu."

At the mention of her name, Shimizu passed a paper around the room, with tables highlighting stock and material discrepancies. Keishin scanned it and noticed out of the corner of his eye that Senior didn't bother to look, rubbing his eyes instead.

The meeting went on for a while, with each manager bringing their colleagues up to speed. The day ended with a nervous agreement to monitor the situation, with heavy emphasis on I.T. to find answers as soon as possible.

Then Seo rushed in to Senior's office the following morning, and she spoke of how several important research cases in her department, Sporting Specialty, were gone.

Of course there were hard, paper backups for _some_ cases, but the freshest data had yet to be printed—and now those ideas were gone.

Senior emerged from his office, Seo, Keishin, and Shimizu on his heels. "Miyaji," he told his secretary, "bring everyone from yesterday back in."

She did as asked, and the conference room was full an hour later. But yesterday's murmurs were now voices rising in volume. The only interruption came when Miyaji barged in. Her jaw clenched with the dozen or so pairs of eyes on her. "I apologize for interrupting, President," she told Senior. Her eyes flickered to Sugawara. "But there's an urgent message for Sugawara-san, from Ennoshita-san, his subordinate."

Sugawara's tan eyes widened in the suddenly quiet room. "Yes?"

Miyaji double-checked the sticky in her hand. "There are incomplete files they can't fix, though they're still trying, and they're checking others right now."

Senior, like Miyaji, clenched his jaw, but Keishin could see in his grandfather's eyes that he was still trying to grasp the severity of the news. So Keishin stood and spoke to the room. "Everyone, listen up. Head back to your stations and check everything by hand, thoroughly. Whatever you have backed up, make new hard files. Keep lines open between departments and update us with every new piece of information. It's important to connect"—he blushed at how naturally one of his volleyball speeches emerged and corrected himself—"I mean, communicate, but let's do this calmly."

He ended it there, and the managers did as he said. But he motioned for Miyaji. "My dad—is he still out visiting with vendors?"

"The vice-president will be back by lunchtime," she confirmed.

Finally, Senior sighed and mentally returned to them. "Get Takeichi on the phone, Miyaji. And then get me a list of our investors." He stood and left for his office. "We've got a long day ahead of us."

* * *

A lot can happen in two days, and much _did_ transpire. Between the ballooning situation with their corrupted systems to spending half of Saturday meeting with investors to fill them in on the news, the Ukais barely had the chance to catch their breath. Keishin gave his father credit, though. That was the first time he'd seen him in action and at headquarters, and he had a certain finesse for easing tension that Keishin and Senior lacked.

Unfortunately, a miserable air clung to the three of them on Sunday, even through a delicious meal made by Keishin's mother. "Wearing such faces while eating my food is an insult," she scolded her husband, father-in-law, and son. "Now you all eat up. You can't get anything done on empty stomachs," she added, dishing up seconds that no one touched.

"Mamiko, please," Keishin's father mumbled. "The investors are worried of this leaking to the media."

"That's to be expected," Senior chimed in, finding it in him to nibble at more rice.

Keishin looked at them, an idea forming. "Well…the managers all know, and our investors know, and I'm sure the employees can sniff out we're in trouble. What if we move ahead with giving the employees an official statement? Then we talk to the press after, and no one's surprised who shouldn't be."

Senior regarded his words, but his father shook his head and got to his feet. "No. With what else the investors suggested—I don't want to be part of that."

"Takeichi—" Keishin's mother began, reaching for him.

But he pulled away. "I'm sorry. I'm tired." And he disappeared upstairs without so much as a polite parting.

She sighed and started clearing things away, even though Senior had eaten more. But Senior let her do what she wanted, and he went to the door, slipping on his shoes and stepping outside.

Keishin, meanwhile, felt awkward in his mother's silence, so he, too, put on his shoes and joined his grandfather in the small front yard.

The house was medium-sized and in a nice neighborhood, but it still was crammed into an area with similar homes, as one imagined in the city. The trains and traffic weren't far-off sounds, nor was the hubbub of the busy shopping district a few blocks away. Yet Senior stood outside here, looking up at a navy, starless sky as if they stood in the quietest place on Earth.

"Gramps?"

Senior's shoulders were stiff and relaxed slower than a snail moved. "I know Takeichi's opinion on the matter," he stated.

Keishin frowned. He didn't need to point out to the old man that it was plain to see he was hurt by his son's opinion nevertheless. "Dad…likes talking with people."

"I know. That's why I gave him the tasks I did. Securing contracts and partnerships is his special power." He snorted. "Who ever heard of a vice-president who works like Takeichi?"

The coach mustered a halfhearted smile and stepped beside his grandfather. "Yeah. Dad marches to his own beat."

"He _is_ my son," Senior said quietly. Then, in an impossibly quieter voice, he said, "This industry… It's no longer for me." He shrugged. "It's not an old man's game."

The words weren't a shock to Keishin, and he knew where this conversation was heading, with or without his input. "And Dad's never wanted to take over."

His grandfather nodded. Then he faced Keishin. Perhaps being backlit by the lights from the house made his features softer. Or maybe time was catching up with him finally. "But you care about this company. You came to help, and you came when things went south." He grinned, the Unyielding Coach Ukai twinkle in his eye. "When I first hinted to you last fall, about taking over, you freaked out like an idiot, but you didn't say 'no.'"

Keishin rolled his eyes. "To be fair, it wasn't _really_ the first time you've made mouth noises about it. I freaked out because it was the first time I could tell you meant it."

Senior shrugged again. After a quiet moment, he continued, "…understand one thing, Keishin: Your parents and I don't see the same Keishin we did a decade ago. I'm not grooming you for this position with the expectation you'll marry and have a family and have someone to pass this on to. Every single one of my employees has started with me and climbed to success within the company. I picked them because I saw their potential. They don't need someone showing up out of nowhere, telling them what to do. They need someone who knows the business—is learning the business," he amended at Keishin's dry look, "who cares and sees them as family, just as I do.

You've got the head for this, Keishin. Just as I knew I could trust you with the Karasuno Volleyball Club, I know I can trust you with Ukai Corp."

The grandson's shoulders sagged. "We've made it to Nationals several times but haven't won since you were coach."

"Eh, details."

Still, Keishin bit his lower lip.

Senior eyed him and sighed. "Talk it over with Ittetsu, but do it soon." He gripped Keishin's shoulder then, and he went back inside, leaving his grandson to think under that endless night sky.

* * *

Keishin couldn't sleep. So he called Ittetsu shortly before one in the morning.

Ittetsu's sleepy voice was precious, and he grumbled unconsciously as he woke up. "Keishin…? It's so late…"

"I know. Sorry for waking you. But we need to talk."

Just like that, Ittetsu was at attention. "Oh, no. What happened? Wait, no. I—"

"Agh, sorry, sorry!" Keishin pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes. "That was poor wording on my part."

"Oh. Okay. Ha." Ittetsu exhaled, low and slow, but his voice was wet. "Um…is it all right if I cry a bit? I kind of panicked…"

Gods, if only they were in the same room, Keishin could wrap his arms around him and squeeze the fright out of him. "I really didn't mean that, Ittetsu-san."

The teacher sniffled and took a couple of shaky breaths, but he calmed down. "I'm good. But what about you?"

Keishin hesitated. "Grandpa…finally said it."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Keishin turned on his side in bed, facing the wall. In the dark like this, with his phone against his ear, he could almost picture Ittetsu lying beside him, could almost smell the comforting scents from their home above Sakanoshita Shop. "Dad's…not willing to make cuts—money or people. Grandpa and I know what has to be done, even if we don't like it. And—" He paused.

"What?"

"Well, Grandpa's tired. None of our investors came out and said it, but I don't think they'd disagree with him stepping down from running the company."

Now Ittetsu paused. "Ukai Corp. is…not next door to Karasuno High."

The coach squeezed his eyes shut tight. "I know," he admitted painfully. "I— This is why I wanted to talk with you. I'll be interim president, until I can get a read someone who's been there longer and can do a better job."

"But you'd be president regardless."

"True. So…"

"So?"

"Maybe I can live in the city during school months and come home the rest of the time." It was said half seriously, but Keishin knew how absurd it sounded.

Perhaps Ittetsu knew that, too, since he chuckled. But then he said, "I kind of like that."

"You do?"

"I do."

Keishin opened his eyes and pictured Ittetsu looking back at him, his smile wide and as stunningly unmarked with lines of age as ever. "Say that again."

"Hmm? I do."

Ah, yes. Words like a kiss pressed to his forehead. "Again."

"I do!"

"One more time."

Finally Ittetsu caught on. "Keishin…! … I do…"

"One more?"

"I do. …"

* * *

An email was sent out early Monday morning, a quick, succinct draft written by Senior in the middle of the night and proofed and checked by Shimizu and Miyaji before going around to the various department managers. The message was forwarded by them to their subordinates to guarantee everyone received it. This way all knew about the company-wide meeting to attend in the studios in Production on Wednesday.

Tuesday was filled with paperwork and lawyers and updates. Shimizu's poker face was impassive while Keishin and Senior squared away the power transfer, but Miyaji was misty-eyed. The action reminded Keishin about how the old man had put his company together. Family, indeed.

At last, Wednesday arrived. Keishin followed his grandfather and Shimizu down to the second floor, where Production was located, and the buzz of people grew louder the closer they approached the end of the large room where a podium had been placed.

"I—" Keishin started.

"You can do this," Shimizu said in her quiet but strong tone. She pushed her pink frames up her nose as if that was that.

Senior found her forthrightness entertaining, and he even grinned. "No need to be awkward, Keishin. You'll be fine." His smile faded as he took a breath and patted his beige suit jacket. "Remember, Keishin: Everyone on this side of the 'net' is your ally," he said with a quick jerk of his head in the crowd's direction. Then he stepped up to the podium.

Keishin appreciated the encouragement, but it didn't make him any less nervous. He winced when the microphone Shimizu clipped to Senior's jacket emitted a high-pitched whine, and then he listened as intently as everyone else as Senior spoke.

"Ah, let's see…" His grandfather scratched his ear and heaved a sigh. He glimpsed the speech Shimizu had drafted for him and left on the podium, but he seemed to change his mind about reading the printed copy. "I think I'll get right to the point: I've got good news and bad news."

Internally, Keishin sighed at the cliché. He peeked at Shimizu and thought he saw the Operations manager's shoulders slacken with a sigh, too.

"First… It's been a long time coming. I've wanted to retire for a while. This industry—it's not an old man's game anymore." He held up a hand to quiet the audience at that, and Keishin wondered if he would recycle everything he'd told his grandson the other night. "Now, you know I wouldn't leave you in the lurch. I've been training my replacement for ages, in many ways. So now I'd like to introduce my grandson, Ukai Keishin."

With a wave of his hand, Senior motioned for Keishin to join him at the lectern. His knees shook with a few hundred pairs of eyes on him, and it was all he could do to bow his head respectfully to them. He prayed to the gods that he wouldn't be expected to speak, not right now.

Luckily, his prayer was answered. He took a step back as Senior cleared his throat and addressed the crowd again. "Keishin here has a good head on his shoulders, and you'll need that in the times to come. A few months ago," he stated after the place quieted, "our company was hacked."

The sudden silence was incredibly loud.

"What seemed like a small intrusion has become a worse problem. I'll have our I.T. manager give you a quick run-down. Kobori," Senior finished, nodding to the tall man who Keishin only now noticed had been standing at the front of the gathering.

Shimizu clipped a second microphone to Kobori's shirt pocket, and he gave the company a curt nod. "Uh, yes. I'm Kobori, from I.T. Someone infiltrated our system a little while back. While we kicked them out, they left some presents behind." Like Senior, he had to raise his hands to quiet the lifting voices—a few people even shouted. "Please, please listen! No one's personal data has been compromised, and our finances are safe."

Well, that was partially true. Accounts hadn't been affected, but Keishin knew the company had suffered a tremendous hit with the confusion at the stores and in the warehouse.

"That information is stored on a separate system," Kobori continued, "so that can't be breached. However, some work data is missing, and there are false statistics that some departments have been working with, so…" He passed things back to Senior as things got loud and out of hand.

"What this means," the old man spoke over everyone," is that there are going to be some changes around here. And that means…there will be some involuntary transitions in the near future." Arms were crossed and eyes widened as he finished there and bowed his head to them in sincere apology.

The murmurs returned as all spilled from the studios, and Shimizu signaled to the former and new presidents to follow her back the back way they'd come.

"Wait!" a voice called after them. "Please, wait!"

Sugawara's voice was so pleading that Keishin turned, and they waited for the Marketing manager as he pushed his way to them. Sawamura was a beat behind him, and the Production manager kept grabbing his arm, only to have Sugawara shake him off each time. "Suga, don't!" he warned.

But Sugawara didn't listen. His eyes were big and round and manic, and they darted between the Ukais. " _Please_ , don't fire Terushima!"

Keishin's frown echoed his father's grimace at the mention of the source of this mess. "Sugawara—" the young coach started.

Sugawara realized what their looks meant. That was when he dropped to his knees and prostrated himself in a perfect dogeza. From the others' angle, his forehead might as well have touched the floor. "Terushima Yuuji can be an idiot and lazy, but he's done good work up to and since the incident, and that was an honest-to-goodness mistake. He doesn't deserve such extreme measures. Please, _please_ , _don't_ fire him!" He balled his hands into fists so tight that his pale knuckles turned blindingly white. "If you need to fire anyone, consider me instead!"

Keishin knelt and touched the sandy-haired man's shoulder, shaking it when Sugawara refused to lift his head. "Sugawara. You are not in trouble. I won't lie to you—layoffs are coming. But that's a work in progress, and I know Terushima had no ill intentions. So…when the time comes to figure out what to do with him, I will hear you out. But don't lower your head to me and throw away your hard work in the process."

Sugawara's tan eyes turned glassy, but he held back his tears and stared at Keishin, his mouth hanging open in a little "o." Sawamura helped his gob-smacked friend to his feet, and it would only be later when Keishin thought back on the scene that he'd realize Sugawara was probably the first Ukai Corporation employee whose trust he'd earned not by word of mouth or because of the Ukai name but through his own, honest actions.

* * *

Honest actions could only carry him so far, Keishin believed as the week passed and he made plans as the news broke in the country. While he listened to Senior's input and Shimizu's advice and assured department managers that all managerial positions were guaranteed safe, the media took mild interest in the story. Some reports guessed at what had happened, though no Ukai Corp. reps confirmed their theories.

"Pay the media no mind," Senior told him. "Either they figure it out for us or we solve everything and hold another press conference. Focus on the task at hand."

Keishin groaned. He _was_ focusing. Sugawara had just left Senior's—no, Keishin's now—office after they came to an agreement that Terushima would be the first laid off. It was the best available solution, and at least Sugawara could meet with Terushima, knowing he wasn't going to fire him.

But Terushima and part-timers had to go for the sake of the company's fiscal health. Probably the worst case was letting Ikejiri in Accounts go, as she'd been back part-time for months after her maternity leave; Keishin could only look at it optimistically when he considered her husband worked fulltime in Production under Sawamura, so the family was not entirely cut loose. Other than them, Accounts lost another in addition to Ikejiri, Sporting Specialty lost two, and one each exited Engineering and HR.

By the end of May and the start of June, Ukai Corp.'s luck took a turn—for the better. Through networking, Keishin learned of a small tech outfit, Nine Lives Net, and Sawamura pitched the idea that at least Ennoshita's friend there, a Narita Kazuhito, might come in and do security consultation for I.T. Keishin authorized it in a heartbeat, and he—and Ukai Corp.—made it to mid-June with no more trouble.

"Don't jinx yourself," Ittetsu fretted over the speakerphone in Keishin's office on a Saturday afternoon.

Keishin sighed and loosened his tie. "I'm not. Ittetsu-san, I swear. In fact, we just sent out a note to everyone the other day. There's a hiring freeze, but we're done laying people off. The real work begins now."

"I saw the news. Did Kumo Japan's president, Hanamiya, really hack the company?"

He snorted at that. "Emperor Industries leads the pack. They don't see us as a threat, so I don't think they'd do it. But Kumo Japan's two spots behind us. So if Hanamiya is as nasty as I've heard, then it's a possibility. Though we don't have any evidence of it."

"I see…" Ittetsu's words trailed off. "You're doing a good job, Keishin."

Keishin smiled sadly. "Thanks."

"We'll figure us out long-term." He said it as if that were merely the next task on their to-do list, which made Keishin laugh. He'd be forever delighted by Ittetsu's go-get-'em attitude, five, ten, twenty, forty years from now.

"You _do_ know I'd rather be home with you and the shop, though, right?" Keishin continued, taking his cellphone from his pocket and bringing up the video chat app.

There was a buzz, and the speakerphone clicked, the call ended. A second later, Ittetsu was shaking his head on Keishin's phone's screen. "Of _course_ I know that," the teacher answered, though his cheeks were rosy with happiness at seeing his lover's face. "But be honest for a moment."

"Shoot."

Ittetsu raised his dark eyebrows above the rims of his old-fashioned glasses. "Aren't you just at the store because it's easy?"

Keishin gave it some thought. That was…only part of it. Damn, Ittetsu had his number. "But we'll be away from each other…"

"And we've managed okay so far," Ittetsu said while Keishin walked around the office, pausing at the sole window, looking out onto the city skyline. "We can always give the webcam another try."

The young president coughed at that, and Ittetsu laughed a tad harder than he needed to at his lover's reaction. "…well, I guess…practice makes perfect."

"Good. So we're in agreement. Manage it part-time, come home on school breaks, and we'll go through a couple of webcams." He laughed at his own joke, but his eyes crinkled, his smile growing the longer he stared at Keishin.

"Or I could move the company headquarters…"

"Keishin!" The teacher blushed at the grand gesture, and he shook his head at him again. His eyes roved over Keishin. "I really do love the chestnut color," he said with a happy sigh.

"…yeah, me, too," Keishin admitted, accepting his new future with a tousle of his unbleached locks.

**Author's Note:**

> WELL. When I first planned BoaF/started writing it, this was one of the initial side story ideas…which I've finally written 3 yrs later. XD So much happened in the setup for "Opportunity," though, and I thought it was important to see this side of things. Not to mention we got to see some of who are teaching the next generation of volleyball kids. ;3 I have to say, my favorite parts of this were likely the interaction between grandfather and grandson and that scene where Suga asks Ukai Jr. not to fire Terushima. That's supposed to be the BoaF nod to Suga asking Ukai Jr. to do what's best for Karasuno and keep Kageyama in if it means they'll keep winning; but here, this Ukai Jr., too, knows Suga shouldn't discard his own talents. :)
> 
> Some other notes:
> 
> -Yes, I named Keishin's parents. I like the name "Mamiko" a lot for some reason, but "Takeichi" was more specific, since we have IkkeiTakeichiKeishin. I wanted "kei" in there somewhere, though you wouldn't write his name with a "kei" character but an "ichi" instead. ;P
> 
> -Kudos if you're a dedicated BoaF fan and recognize Nomura-san popping up again! :D
> 
> -I love Shimada & Takinoue & ship Takishima BADLY. Ofc I'd include them. ;D
> 
> -There are a lot of KnB (and other fandom) references. And characters. For reasons. XDDD (It's a multi-fandom AU, I mean, pssh. XD)
> 
> -When Keishin comments about feeling like a yakuza entering U.C., it's because of his suit; it's a common trope that yakuza wear flashy/gaudy suits and so can be spotted a mile away. Not all of them do, but it still happens, *lol*. *mew also loves yakuza stories, bye*
> 
> -Manga readers recognize Yamamoto's lil' sis, Akane, making a cameo as Nekoma's assistant coach. I have plans for her…as well as others mentioned in the training camp scenes. -w-
> 
> -In BoaF, instead of Takeda having to convince Ukai Jr. to coach the crows, now you know Takeda had to be persistent in asking Ukai Jr. out. (He's going to be 90yo someday and still adorable, y'know.)
> 
> -Golden Week (copied from my A/N for "Opportunity): In Japan, this week from April 30th to May 5th (or until May 6th if April 30th is a Sunday) is a time of kind of…national vacation? A lot of companies have their employees take off here, so there's a LOT of travel, and it's a popular time of the year for clubs to hold activities and training camps at schools. Not all companies participate, & the canon of BoaF is that some companies are too small or have other offerings for flexible time off (as U.C. does) to allow Golden Week vacations. -w-
> 
> -Songs for this fic: "[Chronostasis](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U42mV75h6IA)" by Kinoko Teikoku and "[Calling in Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PkBsfEw0zbY)" by Suran featuring Beenzino; both v appropriate for the moods and scenario here. :3
> 
> Thank you very much for reading, and please review/comment/leave an ask! The next fic in the BoaF collection, "Personal Day," will take a while since it has its own fair share of side stories, but I hope you can enjoy the other side stories while you wait, and please visit the [BoaF tumblr page](http://le-amewzing.tumblr.com/birds-of-a-feather-au) (on my tumblr, le-amewzing) for lotsa stuff~! Show your support for this AU, and share your excitement for it, too!
> 
> -mew-tsubaki :3


End file.
